Requiem
by Rhiannon Ravenclaw
Summary: Two girls arrive from Drumstrang bringing all the dark passions of the school with them. Alona, abandoned by her father turns to Draco for comfort. Together, they plan the ruin of Mr. Potter. However, Ivy knows their secret and is not afraid to use it.
1. Little Girl Lost

"Professor Dumbledore," she began, "Viktor Krum is here to see you." 

The old man looked up from his books. "Thank you Minerva. Please show him in." The young man's appearance had taken the headmaster by surprise. It was a long trip for a young wizard to make without any notice.

Krum shuffled in awkwardly. He gave the impression of a gangly, uncoordinated oaf, not the athletic quidditch star that he was. Only his eyes gave the slightest hint of the important matter that was on his mind. They seemed to stare at nothing, focusing blankly on the floor. Dumbledore motioned for the young man to take a seat. "Mr. Krum," he began. "What a delight to see you again." He had not seen the young man since the tri-wizarding tournament a year before. "I hope all has been well with you."

Krum looked up at the headmaster quickly and mustered polite smile before he returned his eyes to the floor. He nervously twisted a string in his fingers. His breathing was shallow and quick. "Professor Dumbledore, the matter I have to discuss with you is of a very serious nature." He looked up imploringly at the headmaster. 

Dumbledore smiled his reassurance. With great kindness, he looked directly into the boy's eyes. "I see. Mr. Krum, please, continue. What you say here is of the greatest secrecy. Your name will not be implicated."

"Thank you, Professor." He said quietly. His eyes flickered around the office. "Mr. Karkaroff has always been like a father to me, and I would hate to bring about his ruin." 

Dumbledore leaned imperceptivity forward. "It is alright, Viktor. Please, go on."

Viktor Krum looked up hopefully at the professor. He searched the old man's eyes for compassion and found it. With renewed strength he began, "Well, as I've said, Mr. Karkaroff has always been like a father to me. He has been by my side through every major event in my life. He was at every quidditch match when my parents could not make it. He supported me through my hardest subjects at Drumstrang. As such, his daughter Alona has been like a sister. For as long as I can remember, the girl has been my friend and confidant. She knows things about me that certain wizarding publications would die to know. " He looked up at Dumbledore, blushing slightly. "We have been friends for as long as I can remember." His voice shook with this statement, overcome with emotion. Then, he retreated back into the sanctity of his monologue. "I have always known Alona Karkaroff as just that, Alona Karkaroff. It wasn't until recently that I have had reason to suspect otherwise."

Dumbledore sat attentively, care shown through on his kind face. "Viktor, please continue. I know it may be hard, by the truth will let your conscious rest."

Krum sat for a moment before continuing. "I know, Professor, this I learned at Drumstrang." He breathed deeply, focusing on nothing for a moment. Suddenly, his mind recalled him to the present. "Because of our close relationship, I spent a great deal of time at the Karkaroff's house. I heard things. One evening, I was staying over at the house and young Mr. Fudge was over. You remember Mr. Fudge? He was responsible for the tri-wizarding tournament situation."

"Yes, Mr. Krum, I do remember," was all Dumbledore said. 

"Well, I was getting a drink from the kitchen. Alona and I had been practicing quidditch moves and I was exhausted. She is quite good." He smiled, "Anyway, I was getting a bit of water when I heard Mr. Croutch and Mr. Karkaroff in a heated argument. Mr. Croutch seemed very agitated. He said, 'The girl will only be worth something if she is indeed the Heir of Ravenclaw. If she is just some run of the mill witch she will be worth nothing to our lord.' I didn't want to be nosey, but the conversation had sparked my interest, so I listened further. 'Alona is a remarkable young woman, intelligent, cunning, talented, and precocious.' Mr. Karkaroff hesitated. He seemed sad. His next statement was very quiet. 'What more could our lord want?'

Mr. Crouch got very excited. 'If she is indeed the Heir of Ravenclaw her power could equal or surpass young Mr. Potter's. Our lord would be very impressed, Igor.'

Mr. Karkaroff responded in a way I thought improbable of him. His voice did not seem his own. It was the voice he uses when he has turned his emotions off. He said, 'Dear Mr. Croutch, please inform our master that our plan is in hand, and that the Heir of Ravenclaw has been in my possession for some fifteen years. She has been groomed for service to Him. She will not fail Him. Alona is the Heir of Ravenclaw. With the Heir on his side, he will be unstoppable, even by Harry Potter.' I became too ashamed to listen any further any more. Please understand, Professor Dumbledore," he pleaded. His eyes betrayed more hope than his question did.

Dumbledore reflected for a moment. He shook his head in shame. "Mr. Krum. I thank you for this information. We will investigate it to the full extent of our powers." Viktor's face momentarily took on concern. Dumbledore only smiled, "and I assure you that we will be as kind to Mr. Karkaroff as he deserves."

Albus Dumbledore watched the young man leave his office. _Could it be?_ He thought to himself. _The Ravenclaw line has been thought dead for years, ever since He had his hand with them. _He sat in silence for a moment pondering the possibilities of young Krum's information. 

"Minerva," he called out. "You may come up and discuss what you have overheard." Professor McGonagall stepped into the headmaster's office, embarrassment clearly showed on her face. 

"Albus, I am so sorry." She apologized quickly. "It's just..."

Dumbledore interrupted her. "It is fine, Minerva. I'd rather have the two of us remembering this information. I have too much information in my head already." He smiled indulgently. She breathed a light sigh of relief. "However, Professor, what do you make of this information?"

Minerva McGonagall looked into the older man's eyes. "Professor, if it means what I think it means, then Rhiannon Ravenclaw did not die along with her parents fifteen years ago."

"It would seem that that is indeed the case, Minerva."

***

"Alona, there is something of great importance that I must talk to you about." Her father's voice boomed throughout the office. Alona knew what this tone meant, a serious talk. His face fell in sadness. His eyes seemed hollow and lifelessness. He looked at her with this blank expression. She became apprehensive. "You have let me down." He began. His heart was breaking. This girl who had been his daughter for sixteen years was suddenly ripped away from him. He should have predicted nothing less. He loved this girl and had misused her. "I have hoped that you would be destined for the dark arts, like any respectable Karkaroff." His demeanor concealed his heartbreak. He hated to lie to the girl who would be his own flesh and blood, but he had to save her. 

His secret had been discovered. He was actually glad. He had thought that he would be able to handle the girl without loving her. Fifteen years ago, right after Lord Voldemort had been defeated by young Harry Potter, he and the other deatheaters had hatched a plan. They would find one wizarding family that was sure to have strong magical blood, and groom one of their youngest children into service for Lord Voldemort. Fortunately for them, one of the most powerful wizarding families had just produced an offspring. All the deatheaters had to do was off the parents, and raise the youngster as one of their own. Karkaroff volunteered for the project in hopes of regaining the Dark Lord's favor when he returned to power. The family that was chosen was the Ravenclaws. Little Rhiannon would grow up never knowing her real name or heritage, or why magic was easy for her.           

Igor turned back to the matter at hand. "However, you have chosen the path of truth and light. Such paths are not for the Karkaroff family. If your mother knew, she would roll over in her grave." He winced at his own accusation. No girl deserved such torture, but yet, he must do it to save her. "Because of you firm interest in all things other than the dark arts, I have no action left but to send you to another school where you will be happy, and will not tarnish our name. You will be attending Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft in the fall." His lip curled into a false sneer for effect. "I hope, at least, there you will find more of your own week kind." The girl he had known as daughter looked up at him with despair. "Father," she pleaded, "please!" He only turned away from her. Inside his heart was breaking. Those meddlesome fools at Hogwarts had found out about his beloved Alona. In truth, he had grown to love the girl as his own. She was not some pawn to be used in the battle of good against evil as originally anticipated. However, his bad judgment and greed in the past had come back to haunt him. Alona was to be back where she belonged, at Hogwarts. However, this did not ease the pain in his heart. 

Alona stared off into space. Her eyes focused on a patch of air six inches in front of her nose. Her eyes began to sting as tears threatened to blur her vision. Inside, she fought for composure as she had been taught to do. Crying only showed weakness, she was not weak. All the muscles in her chest tightened as her breaths began to quicken. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She would not let this get the best of her. Finally, she felt that protective iciness cover her like a waterfall. She looked up at her father, grey eyes void of emotion. "If you have further need of me, I will be in my room." She stood up and looked at the back of her father. He stood facing the picture that had been taken of the two of them at Krushnik Court when she was first buying supplies for Drumstrang. The girl in the picture looked imploringly from the real life father to daughter. Quickly, the girl in the picture buried her face in her hands and ran from the frame. A younger, startled Karkaroff ran after her, out of view.

Alona turned and walked out of the room. She pace was slow and deliberate. She would not give him the pleasure of having made her upset. But when she was out of his office, she crumbled. Blindly, she ran through the halls of Drumstrang. She ran, tears running down her face. Her chest felt like a vice-grip had clenched down on it. Every breath brought a new pain. She ran down the south corridor not caring who saw the usually poised and collected Alona Karkaroff crying like a child. Right now she wanted to be one. 

Suddenly she slammed into something, or someone. She looked up to see the most unwelcome face she could have found. Ivy Belladonnavich was as cruel as they come, and right now, she was sneering at Alona. "Oh, Alona, dear," she began in mock concern. "What's wrong? Did your dog eat your potions assignment? I'd hate to have Miss Perfect not turn an assignment in. Drumstrang might have to schedule an emergency closure. Everyone, Everyone!" She called looking around the corridor, "Our campus leader has had an emergency! She has not finished an assignment. We must close school, until she can finish it." She glared at Alona. Her emerald green eyes shining in sharp contrast to her fiery red hair. She began to walk off, but she paused just long enough to whisper in Alona's ear, "I hope your father wasn't too upset about having a family embarrassment as a daughter." She turned at looked at a horrified Alona and smiled before continuing down the hall. 

Alona could only think of one place to go and ran there as quickly as she could. 


	2. Two Arrivals

            Alona stepped onto the deck of the ship. She felt the chill wind nip at her cheeks. It smelled of juniper. Slowly, she ambled to the bow of the wooden creation, each step methodical and rehearsed in her mind. The captain had told her that they would be arriving at Hogwarts soon. She enjoyed watching the arrivals from the deck. It gave her a sense of wonderment. Unlike other forms of wizard travel, the ship's arrival was gradual. Destinations were unveiled, like fog lifting off the hills on a sunny day. Sometimes, if the arrival was early morning, the sun would catch fog just so, scattering the brilliant light in every direction. She looked out. The weather conditions were perfect for a breathtaking arrival. 

She sighed quietly to herself. She ran her hand slowly across the grain of the rail. As she caressed the centuries old wood, her mind drifted off to nothingness. She sat memorizing the feel of the wood, its warmth, the little divot on the underside. _How dare he send me away, she thought to herself. __Durmstrang has always been my home. Her muscles flexed with emotion causing her to scrape her nails along the rail. Something sharp caused her to recoil her hand quickly. Examining her hand, she found a splinter in the pad of her index finger. She removed the splinter. Bright red blood poured out of the small hole. The blood matched her robes perfectly._

Alona felt a gentle breeze tug at her. She turned into the wind, allowing her robes to balloon behind her. She raised her face toward the sky, enjoying the sweet kiss of the air upon her cheeks. Here, she was free. It reminded her of flying on her broom. She wondered if she would be able to play quidditch at Hogwarts. Flying allowed her freedom that she never had on the ground. In the air, no one could catch her, not even Krum. She smiled to herself. 

The air around her glowed pale blue, indicating that the sun was shining brightly. The ship moved very quickly, and most people were uncomfortable watching the land slip by so fast. So, the ship had been enchanted. All a person could see from the deck was a sea of color. Different colors meant different weather. Light blue meant that the sun was shining.

As Alona watched, the air began to brighten. Other color blossomed through the endless landscape of blue. First, there was green, and then the pinks and yellows of the wildflowers soaked through the canvas before her. Directly before Alona, a dark mass began to form. _Hogwarts, _she though sadly. Soon, the whole castle was visible. Alona sighed and went below deck. There was nothing to do now but wait for the ship to dock. Before her was the proof that she had been dreading. This was not a horrible dream. Her father was gone. She was going to be attending Hogwarts. The ship lurched gently. It had docked.

She looked around her stateroom in numb silence. After she gathered her self, she would be embarking on her new life, a life away from Durmstrang, away from her father, away from Krum. Krum had been her companion for most of her life. As hard as she would try, she could not remember a time when he was not there. He was the one who had been there for her since before she could walk. The Krum family was good friends with the Karkaroffs. Helga used to coo over Alona and remark how she was such a special girl to be alive. Viktor had taught her how to concoct a potion, flick a wand and ride a broom. But it was always her father that she looked to for recognition. How she had wanted to please him. Ultimately, she had been unable to do this. A single tear burned its way down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. This year, she would prove herself to him. This year, he would see how great she was. 

With firm resolve, she straightened her red cloak. She looked in the mirror. A Durmstrang girl must always look her best. Her reflection impressed her. The image was imposing. Before her stood a tall girl of 16 years. Her skin almost seemed to radiate. The pale luminescent was comparable only to the moon. Her face was framed by hair as dark as a night without starts. The raven hair was interrupted however, by a streak of silver just left to the center of her forehead. Her hair was long and sleek with a few pieces that blew away in the wind. It gave her a remarkably feminine look. The long, red robe billowed to the ground in luxurious splendor. The fur trim caressed her cheeks gently. The color almost gave her rosy cheeks. The robe, however, did not hide her lithe figure. The girl in the mirror winked, "You could take over the world, young one. Go get them!" Alona winked back, "I will." She turned and walked out of her room with renewed spirit.  

When she reached the top of the imbarcment ramp, she noticed two figures waiting for her on the shore. They seemed to be involved in a serious debate. The first seemed old enough to be her great-grandfather. He had grey hair that extended down his back. His white beard was almost as long. He looked over half-moon spectacles at the other person in the conversation and nodded appropriately. She stared in slight abashment. This must be the "great" headmaster her father had told her about. It looked as if a stiff wind could knock him over. He hardly appeared to be the great wizard that his reputation gave him. The second man looked more like what she was used to. He stood with a presence. He oozed confidence and self-worth. His features were pronounced and hard, like most the students are Durmstrang. He had highly chiseled cheeks and a profoundly hooked nose. The conversation was much more important to him. He was talking rather animatedly. As he did so, his shoulder-length black hair moved with every gesticulation. 

Alona proceeded down the ramp. With luck, she would be able to eavesdrop on the conversation. "I just don't see the importance, Albus." the black haired one began.

"Severus, we have been over this. You are the one who knows most about the type of training she has experienced. You are the one who can work to reverse it." The man said looking through his spectacles again. 

"What do I know about 16 year old girls?" 

Alona smirked, "Hopefully, not too much, or I'd turn you in." She looked him directly in the eye. 

His lip curled as he bit his tongue. 

"Ms. Karkaroff," the old man said gently with a slight smile. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor Dumbledore, the head master here. And this is Professor Snape. It is he that you will be staying with until you are settled in a house. He will also act as your guardian here at school." 

Alona grinned with one side of her mouth. "A pleasure, I'm sure, professor," she cooed to Snape. "If you are ready, my hawk needs placement in the owlery." She saw the questioning glances. "I assure you, he is very well mannered, at least by Durmstrang standards. I have never had much luck with owls." She wasn't sure why, but the two men exchanged knowing glances. "Miss Karkaroff," Dumbledore said. "If you please, we will be off to the school. You have two weeks to get used to the surroundings before the other students get here." With that, all three started off for the castle. 

Two weeks later

She looked at her surroundings with open disgust. Muggles were everywhere. Protectively, she drew her red cape around her body lest one of them touch her. She searched her brain for some positive aspect of the move. Even though she had pondered this for weeks, she could still only come up with two answers. The first was that her new school robes were black. She grinned. They wouldn't clash with her fiery red hair. There was no fur trim on these, but she was willing to overlook that. The look was rather flattering. The second reason was much more promising to her. She would be moving away from that wretched know-it-all, never fail at anything, Alona Karkaroff. The redhead's lip curled as she remembered the girls' first meeting. Alona had shown promise. She was after all, the headmaster's daughter. There was bound to be some potential for a partnership. The girl's confidence and collection drew the redhead to her. She had never made the mistake of being so wrong again. 

She wrinkled her nose as a pungent odor withdrew her from her memory. The scent was detestable. It was almost as if the young girl could smell the muggles traipsing casually around the station. She held her cloak as a particularly oafish man brushed past her. She memorized his drooping mustache and self-important walk as well as the bedraggled boy that followed him. His black hair refused to stay in one place and he wore spectacles that were five times too big for his face. Her breath caught, however, when he looked at her apologetically with the most startling green eyes she had ever seen. They looked like high-grade emeralds. Later, she would have to send a curse to the fat man. At least the boy looked appropriately repentant. _It's despicable_, she thought as she buried her head and followed her mother through the crowded station, avoiding as much contact as she could.  

"Ah yes," the woman began, "here we are." Her mother was practically shaking with excitement. The girl rolled her eyes in revulsion. When her mother had informed her of her father's transfer, Kathryn had practically boiled over with excitement about the prospect of her daughter attending the school she remembered so fondly. She had always been proud that the young girl attended Durmstrang Institute, but remembered with fondness her times at Hogwarts as a student, before she met Sasha. She looked at her mother. 

"I see nothing but a brick wall, mother." She said apathetically. 

"Honestly, surprised you ever made it to your sixth year! Wall towards the brick wall to the other platform. You'd think you'd never existed in a magical world!" she reproached. 

She set her jaw. She was not a mudblood. She knew what magic was. She walked towards the barrier with calm, even steps. Soon, the brick wall gave way to a scene of seemingly endless hustle and bustle. A great steam engine stood before her. Bursts of vapor exploded from its stack in rhythmic precision. Everywhere she looked, there were students with trolleys loaded with a plethora of items from suitcases to animals. Suddenly, something or someone pushed the redhead from behind. She stumbled before she managed to catch herself. She wheeled around on the person, fire in her eyes. She smirked when she saw the frightened boy before her. The boy was nothing spectacular to look at. He seemed still to maintain some of the pudginess of his youth. He stood like a deer trapped in a muggle's headlights before he managed to stammer out, "Haveyouseenmywand…it'smissing."

The girl flipped her sleek red hair over her shoulder. "No, I haven't," she said in her sultriest voice. 

"Th..th..thankyou," he stammered before blushing bright red and running quickly away. She smiled to herself. She loved the effect she had on most men. It made her feel powerful. Casually, she looked around for her mother. Finally, she spotted the woman. She was talking to someone, but the girl could not see who, he or she was blocked by some insolent person standing in the way. She walked purposefully over to her mother. Her jaw dropped in amazement as she heard her mother giggle. Her mother did not giggle. 

Her mother caught sight of the girl out of the corner of her eye. "Oh, honey, do come here. There is someone I want you to meet. Lucius, this is my daughter, Ivy Beladonavich. Ivy, this is Lucius Malfoy." The man smiled at her and bowed formally. As he did so, he grabbed her hand and kissed it gently. 

"A pleasure, I assure you," his voice dripped with alacrity. Ivy smiled to herself. She knew a bit about this man. When her mother and she had been closer, Kathryn had let Ivy know that there was a man at Hogwarts that she had loved greatly. They had been deeply in love, but were torn mercilessly apart by arranged marriages. This man was Lucius. 

She smiled back, "no, sir, the pleasure is mine." She looked directly into his eyes. For a split-second, the man seemed nervous. However, it was quickly replaced by the cool distain that resided continuously in his face. 

"There is someone I wish for you to meet, Miss Beladonavich," he smiled as warmly as Lucius could smile. He turned to his left and clapped he hands once. A boy about Ivy's age looked up from a group of students. He began walking decisively towards the older man. Ivy's inhaled sharply. Walking towards her was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She swallowed, and began mindlessly fumbling with her hair and robes. His hair shown with the brilliance of the sun and crowned his face is light. His face was delicate and refined. He had highly sculpted cheekbones and a firm jaw. His grey eyes resembled a raging storm at sea. Ivy tried to exhale, but found that she couldn't. _Composure!_ she scolded. _Do not let a boy do this to you! You are a woman and in control. _ Ivy collected herself and tried to slow her heartbeat down. She was sure that everyone could see it pounding trough her robes. As he walked, his robes fluttered away from his body revealing a slim, but chiseled chest. She became weak in the knees. The boy stopped by Lucius' side. "Ivy Beladonavich, meet Draco, my son. Draco, this is Ivy Beladonavich from Durmstrang." 

"A pleasure," he said, just like his father. And like his father, he reached for Ivy's hand and gently kissed it as he bowed to her. 

Like she had done to his father she said, "no, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine." This time, however, she meant it. 


	3. Sorting

            Ivy's displeasure was evident on her face. It was ludicrous to expect a girl of her training to share a boat with these bumbling whelps. Furthermore, she never knew if she might be sharing a boat with one of those mudbloods. Her nose involuntarily wrinkled.  Quickly, however, she gathered her composure. She looked straight ahead and her face softened to mild distain. She pulled her robes close around her to prevent anyone from soiling them with their possibly "tainted" hands. With a lurch, the boat started across the lake heading for Hogwarts. 

Ivy gave an uncharacteristic sigh. Here in the boat filled with eleven year olds, she was unconcerned about her reputation. They could easily be scared into submission later. Her thoughts drifted to the train ride she had just taken. She felt disgusted as she remembered how she acted the entire trip. 

Upon boarding the train, Ivy did what any good Durmstrang student would do. She scouted out the most powerful people on the train and sought to make an alliance. Much to her pleasure, this brought her into contact with Draco Malfoy again. She smiled as she remembered, her heart beating faster. Quickly, however, the smile faded as she then recalled the remainder of the trip. No one person had ever had the effect on her that Draco had. It was almost as if she forgot who she was. Where she used to be confident and collected, she felt insecure and frazzled. She was always saying the wrong thing and acting, well, stupid. The two goons he carted around with him were nothing. Ivy could control them like she held the strings and they were marionettes. All she had to do was bat her eyelashes and flip her hair and they were putty in her hands. But Draco, there was a different story. By the end of the ride, Ivy had spilled so many drinks, fumbled so many sentences, and said so many insulting things that she was sure Draco thought her eligible for the local asylum. If Ivy had been capable of crying, she might have at that moment.

Slowly, she became aware of a petite bond girl staring at her.  At first, Ivy simply tried to ignore the girl's stone cold stare. Eventually, though, the task became impossible. She turned suddenly to the girl, her cheeks coloring with irritation. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that staring is a weak and unintelligent past time?" she asked, her voice harsh and quick. 

The girl's eye's widened in fear. "I'm…I'm sorry," she stammered quickly. "It's just that you're much older than the rest of us, and…" her voice became weak. She looked down at her lap. "I'm sorry, and no, she never did." 

Ivy snorted. "That's evident. Well, now you know, see that you remember it." She turned around quickly, her new black robes rustling. 

***

            Alona left the room that had been her quarters for the past two weeks. With a smile, she walked into the common room. She would be glad to be rid of Severus and his attentions. He was the most unbearable person she had ever known. Alona had discovered that he was the head of Slytherin House. From the information she had gathered from _Hogwarts: A History_, he should be just like those she left from Durmstrang. She supposed that was why Dumbledore had made him her guardian at Hogwarts. _A little piece of home _she scoffed. However, she found that he was annoyingly concerned about her. He hovered over her like an ominous cloud, asking her if she needed anything, or needed to talk, or if she felt strange at all. He'd never say what he meant by this, just if she felt "strange." On one such questioning session, she had lost control. "Strange!" she had yelled. "Strange? You want to know if I feel strange?! Well maybe I do! If your father kicked you out of his life for being a disappointment, banishing you from even writing him, maybe you'd feel strange. If you were forced to attend a school with mudbloods, you'd feel strange! If you were forced to stay with some overbearing, greasy-haired freak of a pure-blood, you'd feel strange! So, yes, there, I feel strange! Find the answer you were looking for?!" At this she had stormed off. The subject was never broached again. Alona was sure that he had more than a few screws loose. _One too many potion disasters_, she often thought.

            She closed the door. After whispering a quick, "invisiarte," to hide the professor's door from anyone passing by she headed toward the great hall. He had told her to be there around 6 PM. It was 5:55. In the two weeks that she had been at the school, she had been allowed to roam where ever she pleased. She had made good use of this. She knew so many secret passages and tunnels that she had taken to writing them down in a notebook. Of course, the ink was only visible to her. What better way to secure her innocence should the book fall into the wrong hands? This time, however, she took the normal route to the great hall. There was no sense in drawing untoward attention to herself so soon. If she did it right, she would never get caught. 

            She walked down the grand staircase. The candlelight threw shadows on the walls. She smiled inwardly at the seemingly random dance. She slowed her pace as she walked up behind Professor McGonagall. No need to frighten the witch, she already was leery of Alona. 

            McGonagall was giving the traditional "First Year" speech. Alona had come near the end. "Finally, there are two of you who are not new students, just new to Hogwarts." Alona raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You two will wait until the first years have completed the sorting and then we will commence with yours. So, Ivy Belladonnavich, I see you're here." Alona's breath caught in her chest. She felt her fists tighten into a fist. The one good reason for leaving Durmstrang had followed her here. "and, oh where is she?" McGonagall looked around the group. "I told Severus to have her here at six!" she was talking to herself. Suddenly, Alona smiled. She knew that Ivy was here, but Ivy did not know she was. She could have the pleasure of watching Ivy squirm at the realization.

 She stepped around McGonagall. "I am here, professor." As she said this, she looked directly at Ivy, a sneer spreading across her face. Ivy's face cracked. The steely expression she had managed to maintain throughout the day finally burst in one quick second. An emotion close to rage played across her features. Alona simply beamed. 

"Oh, good, Miss Karkaroff, I was getting worried. You and Miss Belladonnavich are to wait until the first years have finished being sorted. Then you two will get your chance."

Alona turned her gaze from Ivy to the woman, "Thank you Professor." She walked toward Ivy smiling and linked elbows with the red head. "I am sure Ivy and I will have a lot to catch up on." Anyone who didn't know the manipulative ways of Durmstrang students would have thought that Alona and Ivy were best friends, reunited after a long parting, such was the seeming genuineness of her statement. 

The group began filing into the great hall. Alona walked arm in arm with Ivy. "Hello, Ivy. It is so nice to see you," she said patronizingly.

"And you, Alona. You know, we had all thought you were sent away from school, shamed. I am glad to see you're doing so well for one who has let her father down so horribly." Her voice rolled like hot sugar. 

Ivy had obviously recovered from her initial shock. "Oh, I have, Ivy dear. But you, how horrible it must be for you to have your parents send you here, and you did not even shame them. I can't imagine why they would make you attend this mudblood safe-house of a school. It's so beneath your status. " Alona batted her eyelashes in mock innocence. 

The barb had its desired effect. If looks could kill, Alona would have died instantly. "Listen, you little…" but she was cut short. McGonagall called the first name. 

Ivy and Alona sat it stony silence through the entire list of Hogwarts First Years. Murmurs ran through the hall as the students noticed that two older girls were standing where the rambunctious group of first years had been. Only one table sat in quiet indifference. The members of Slytherin already knew about Ivy Belladonnavich. They even knew how she set the cat on fire when she was three. _That girl rambles on and on about nothing, _Draco thought. He smacked his lips in annoyance. It was truly sad how these mudbloods all gawked at anything unexpected. He hadn't even bothered to give her a glance. He felt a jab in his ribs and wheeled on the source. "Listen, Goyle, I'd hate to start the year off as a toad. Do that again, and I'll see to it." 

The boy stared down at the table.  "but… Draco," he stammered, "there are two girls." 

"What? I only knew of one on the train." Draco turned to look at the girls. There was the girl he had met this afternoon. She was promising enough. Her full hips and chest definitely excited the young Slytherin in certain ways. In other ways, she was a bit of  a shame to the pure-blood line. He had been silently questioning his father's taste in families all day the way she bumbled her way through the train ride. Still, that figure…he would simply call on her when he needed to take care of that certain something. 

Standing next to her, however, was another girl. If the redhead exuded lust, this girl was the embodiment of grace. She seemed to be touched by the moon itself. Her body was lithe, with slender curves gently accented by her black robes. Her pale skin shimmered in the candlelight of the hall. Her lips looked as if she were constantly pouting. They were naturally blood-red and full. Above her lips, a slender nose led to violet, almond-shaped eyes that looked innocent but wise at the same time. Her raven-black hair was long and sleek, and it framed her face with the softness of silk. A shock of silver hair extended from the right side of her bangs. It gracefully fell across her eyes. Draco inhaled sharply. Standing before him not a girl touched by the moon, but the moon itself. He was not the only student to take notice of the dark haired beauty, however. At the Gryffidor table, Harry Potter could not take his eyes off the new arrival. 

Dumbledore stood up. "Now, now," he began, quieting the students. "This year, we have a unique situation. Two students have come to us from Durmstang. I hope you will make them feel welcome." Draco smiled. A student from Durmstrang was sure to end up in Slytherin. 

McGonagall called the first girl, "Ivy Belladonnavich."  Ivy walked confidently up to the stool. She laughed slightly to herself at the idea that a musty old hat could read her. At Durmstrang, they used crystals. That made sense. Every beginning witch learns about the magical properties of crystals. But a hat? Slowly, McGonagall set the hat down on her head. 

"Ah, Miss Belladonnavich, I remember your mother. She did well in Slytherin, as you will," It spoke to Ivy.

Ivy sneered. _Remember my mother? And just who is my mother? She couldn't believe that the hat could know her mother. After all, she had had a different name then. _

"Yes, Miss O'Rourke. She was much like you are; fiery, powerful, intimidating. That being the case, it best be…_Slytherin__!" It yelled aloud. The Slytherin table erupted in cheers, although it was not a big surprise. When the cheers died down, McGonagall read the last name. Draco and Harry listened very attentively. "Alona Karkaroff." There was a collective gasp from the students. They could hardly believe that the name was mere coincidence. Furthermore, why would the daughter of Durmstrang's headmaster come to Hogwarts? But she was there, standing before them. _

Alona picked her chin up and walked toward the stool ignoring the whispers. Draco grinned eagerly. He was quickly going over how he would introduce himself. In a matter of seconds, he had run five different scenarios in is head and decided which would be most impressive. After all, the headmaster's daughter had to be Slytherin material. 

The hat settled on Alona's head. "Well, well…very interesting. Yes, we had thought you were dead." For the second time that evening, Alona raised an eyebrow in surprise. _You must have me mixed up with someone else, _she thought._ I have never been 'thought' to be dead._ "Actually," the hat mused, "I still thought you were dead until just now. Others may still doubt the truth, as you do, but I assure you, Miss Ravenclaw, you are very much alive." 

Terror and disbelief seized Alona "No!" she screamed as she jumped up and tore the hat off her head. "You lie!" She was shaking uncontrollably as she looked up to see the entire school staring at her. Like clockwork, her training kicked in. Her face returned to its unreadable mask. Her movements became smooth and calculated.  "Excuse me, Professor McGonagall. Your hat said some…questionable things." She effortlessly bent down and swept up the hat. Sitting back down, she set the hat back on her head. 

"Ah…not ready I see, well, on to other things," the hat resumed. "You are very powerful…yes and wise. Your have a great amount of potential beyond what you already are capable of. You have a great need to prove yourself, definitely. This perhaps more than almost anything. I can see that you will be great. Slytherin will allow you an easier time of this. But…I see your challenge lies somewhere else…Yes, you would be bored by the simplistic methods of Slytherin. For you, it is best to follow your lineage to…_Ravenclaw__!" Alona gracefully stood up and made her way to the Ravenclaw table as the students clapped nervously. Her mind was racing with what the sorting hat had said to her. She didn't notice the two boys following her movements. She didn't notice the look of relief on the face of the boy with glasses. Nor did she notice the look of shocked disappointment on the silver Slytherin's face. But Draco's reaction did not go completely unnoticed. Ivy took note of his reaction from the other side of the table. Under the table, her nails had begun to draw blood from the palm of her hands. She was not going to let Alona ruin everything for her, particularily not with Draco Malfoy.  _


	4. The Challenge and The Measuring

Draco: Very good. I see you've discovered my little secret. Thanks for being the spur in my side making me update!

Panuru4u: Thanks for the compliment. I think you'll like what continues on.

Stefyne: Your writings are fabulous and I wanted to thank you for writing and the help earlier! It's greatly appreciated!

Miss Raven: What else do I have to say? Thanks for being there from the beginning!

***

Alona shoved the pillow over her face. A renegade beam of light was trying desperately to ruin what was left of her morning. She groaned as she turned over in a last ditch effort. It was hopeless. Reluctantly she threw the covers off of her body and let them fall haphazardly to the ground. She had yet to move any other part of her body. It just took too much energy in the morning. She rolled her head to the side. Some girl, _What__ was her name again? _She thought, _Oh__ yeah, Pada, or Padme, or Padma, something like that, _was sleeping effortlessly in the next bed over. She was in shadow. _Typical_ she thought with a raised eyebrow. Slowly, she rolled herself out of bed. The dorm was so different from anything that she had encountered before. It was light. She wasn't used to light surroundings. The tower walls almost sparkled as the day light filled the airy space. Bronze and blue accented every nook that Alona looked. Even her blankets were the same shimmering colors. She was not used to it at all. Durmstrang had been dark. Even when the sun did not set, it was dark. 

She estimated that she had a good three hours before classes started. She felt the dire need to get out of the stuffy dorm room. Quickly, she grabbed her broom and slipped out of the dorm. She made no particular effort to stay quiet. It wasn't her problem if they woke up early. Her footsteps barely echoed as she ran down the hall. 

 She knew the Quidditch Pitch well. She spent many an afternoon there in the past two weeks, trying to stay away from that crazy Snape and his annoying game of 50 questions. That is where she now headed.

The morning was invigorating to say the least. Though the sun shone, the morning was crisp and cool. A thin fog hovered slightly above the ground. Alona pulled her robes closer around her to block out the dampness. She smiled. It would be a fine morning, even if it was morning. She kicked off the ground and rose swiftly into the air. She did not notice the broom whizzing dangerously close in her proximity nor the person atop it. "Watch it, you!" A menacing voice called out. Alona turned quickly to face the disembodied voice. She gave the owner a good, long glare. 

"Oh really? And I suppose that you own the sky and all you survey too." Her voice was hard. 

Draco Malfoy instantly regretted what he had said, if regret was an emotion that a Malfoy could feel. Staring at him in intense hatred was the one girl that he had dreamt of meeting, literally. His body grew warm as he recalled that dream. Quickly, however, he snapped back to reality. His mind searched for the best solution on how to handle the situation. He was speechless, for once in his life. 

"Feel like answering, or are you incapable of such an act?" Alona inspected him carefully. It was really too bad that he was apparently flawed, mentally. Physically, he was definitely very exquisite. She had never seen anyone like him before. His pale skin almost glowed. His face was crowned by his wind-tousled sliver-blond hair. Up here, the wind blew his robes away from his body revealing a well-chiseled, but slender chest. Quidditch had been good to him. It was his eyes, though that attracted her attention. They were like the surface of the ocean, grey and stormy. "Well, apparently the latter." She began to fly away.

"Wait!" Draco called out. Mentally he hit himself on the forehead. _Be a Malfoy, Draco! _ He sneered in challenge. "If you think you're so amazing, how about a bit of a contest?" Alona stopped her progression forward and tipped her broom toward the Slytherin. "Who ever bests the other on their broom wins the other's name, and a date." He deepened his sneer. Everyone knew about Draco's flying ability. He was second only to Potter and that was only because that git had luck on his side. 

Alona slowly turned her broom around. Her face was a mask of concentration except for the small, confident smile that spread across her lips. "I agree to your terms, but I give you fair warning, I'm no slouch." 

"I truly hope not." As Draco uttered the words, he took off on his broom with amazing speed. Alona took off after him, hot on his heels. Turn for turn, spin for spin, Alona matched the Slytherin perfectly. Draco began to feel a bit concerned. The girl really was good. Furthermore, the girl seemed at ease. She hadn't even begun to sweat. She pulled up along side him. "Is that all you've got?" She called out, taunting him. Something about that girl made his pulse race. She could be so maddening, yet so enticing. _Damn her!_ Draco flattened out and urged his broom faster in annoyance. Alona laughed. He wanted her more. 

The answer came to Draco in a flash. Like lightning, it popped into his brain. He would dive. If he got closer to the ground that she did, which was obviously going to be the case, he would win. He dove. The ground came racing toward him quickly. Draco began to pick out the individual flowers in the grass, and they were growing larger fast. At what Draco thought was the last minute, he pulled out of the dive an impressive four feet above the ground. Alona was hot on his heels however. Draco turned around a look of satisfaction on his face. The look quickly faded as he saw the girl. She was traveling very fast. _Too fast_, Draco thought. She'd never make the turn. His breath quickened. He started to race towards the spot that she was sure to impact. He became aware of eyes on him. Alona's bright violet eyes were looking straight at him. Draco watched the sequence of events in what seemed like slow-motion. 

It looked as if the girl barely did anything. It was as if the broom simply responded to her thoughts. It pulled up beautifully a mere foot off the ground. Alona reached down and grabbed a flower as she passed over the lush grass. She flew over to Draco. "Here, Draco, this is for you." She handed him the flower. "and no, I won't be needing that date." She smiled and flew away toward the castle. Draco landed and stood, motionless in the middle of the pitch. She hadn't even let him tell her his name. She had already known it. For the second time in five minutes, he cursed the girl. For the second time in five minutes, he wanted her more than ever. 

Alona smiled to herself. The plan was working. In no time at all, Malfoy would be dying to see her. What she didn't know was that he already was. She laughed. If only her father could see her now and see what she had become in the short time she had been here. He would be so pleased. She was no longer the simpering good girl. Compared to these louts, she was a master. Manipulation was easy here. No one expected it, especially not from some girl sorted into Ravenclaw. She clenched her teeth together.  _Those of wit and learning…blah blah blah…_She had never been able to escape the horrible label given to her at Durmstrang, Elamu enne Valge, the House of Light. She closed her eyes trying to shut out the images that were now pouring through her mind. 

The ritual was very ancient. To those not familiar with it, it appeared barbaric. Alona Karkaroff walked into the clearing clad only in the robes of a common profit. Her body was anointed with oils and perfumes. A thought ran into her mind causing her to laugh silently. In history, a profit was generally a witch or wizard without any training. They wielded their powers without warning. She was going to become more. She was nervous. The dark forest closed in around her. She closed her eyes and found a small amount of comfort in the rich smell of the woodland. Her heart pounded in her chest and seemed to echo in the great expanse of the clearing. 

It was amazingly dark. Not even the moon provided light. She arrived at the designated area and knelt in reverence to the pool. Slowly, she stood up and turned her head to the moon. Light began to swirl about her. It began at her feet, every color imaginable, and worked its way skyward. Soon, the column extended from the forest floor to the heavens above. Beyond the lights swirling about her, Alona could only see blackness. They were out there. This she knew. They were always out there for this, the most important ceremony in a witch's life. A voice boomed out of the black void. "Alona Karkaroff, do you come here out of your own free will?" 

Alona tried to find the source of the voice, a place to give the answer to. Finally, she simply spoke into the nothing. "Yes, I do." 

The voice began again, "And do you, Alona, trust in the power of those who have come before you to direct you?"

Alona knew this meant her ancestors. She thought of the mother she had never known, Olga Karkaroff. "Yes, I do."

"Alona, if those aforementioned should fail you, do you trust in those with you to guide you?" 

"No, I do not." The ritualistic words were always harsh to her. It seemed sad that this should be the way it is. _It's sad that we are not allowed to trust those around us. It's not right._ She took a breath and continued the script. "It is written above in the heavens that we are to trust those before us, and in the power of that which flows through all things. It is not for us to know our path, but to discover it on our way to greatness. I will not be lead astray."

"Alona Karkaroff, approach the pool as did Katarina did so long ago." Alona's body went rigid. It was time. Her heart pounded in her ears as she slipped off the only thing covering her body. _Katarina_Alona smiled weakly. _Katarina__ was royalty. The witch had no last name that anyone could recall. She was the protector of the human soul, mistress of nature, and guardian of the sacred. Women did not approach her pool clad in clothing. It was disrespectful to do so. Women approached her pool naked, communing with the power of nature.  _The cool night air bit at her breasts. She struggled to keep from shivering. Alona walked over to the reflecting pool and bent over it. For a moment, she thought she had done something wrong for the water did not stir. Then, as she was about to make her concerns known, the surface began to swirl gently. 

A soft kind voice filled Alona's mind. "Welcome, child. You do me honor by coming to me free from the trappings of the outside world. Take a moment's peace." Alona's eyes closed and her body motions stopped. Warmth spread throughout her body. To the outside world, Alona had just entered the measuring trance. Old magic hung in the air, thick, almost tangible. The voice returned. "Tell me your fears, your loves, you life. What is it that you most desire?" The pool began to shift. Pictures streamed across the surface quickly. At one moment, there was a car, the next only a smoldering ruin of the automobile, a baby was crying. There was a man wearing the dark robes of Durmstrang, a skull with a serpent roving around it was very prominent on his forearm. It was Igor Karkaroff. Suddenly, there was a Quidditch pitch, a horse, strong and gleaming white, an eagle and a mountain of books. There were two boys, much older than Alona was now, perhaps 16. One appeared silver, tall, muscular, and beautiful. The other was brown haired, green eyed and awkward. He wore glasses. A tall dark man in a cloak of the darkest black strode across the surface. Green sparks erupted from the tip of his wand. He was walking straight toward Alona. 

Then there was only this, grief. Alona felt her heart being ripped out of her. She longed to sob wildly, but with no reason why. She began to claw at herself to remove her heart. It hurt, it hurt so much. She did not want to feel this way. It was weak. It was vulnerable. If she could remove her heart, it would stop hurting. She tried desperately, scratching at her bare breasts until blood streamed down her stomach. Then, suddenly, the pool erupted into a single color, bronze. Light emanated from it and enveloped Alona, engulfing the colors previously encircling her. Alona stopped and stared transfixed. She felt a sudden peace. Her lips curved into an understanding smile before she fainted. The glow dimmed until it faded completely. Her fellow students gathered her body and headed for the school. 

She had woken up later in the hospital wing. A bandage was wrapped around her chest. She looked up and saw her father there. "Father! It was awful! What did all those pictures mean? Who were those people?" She paused for a moment, her stomach dropping further. "Everyone saw me didn't they? Everyone saw me acting like a crazed animal." 

Igor smiled indulgently. "Alona, my precious, it is a part of the measuring and nothing to be ashamed of. Many students experience powerful images that cause them to do things that they normally would not do. You will find that many here understand." He stroked her hair gently. A shaft of white hair had begun to grow from her temple in the week that Alona had been in the hospital. He sighed mournfully. She had undergone more than most did in the measuring. She would be marked forever by her measuring. He desperately wanted to know what she had seen, but knew that it was not for him to know. "Alona, what images appeared on the pool are for you to see only. However, the crystals found you were suited for Elamu enne Valge." He tried to smile, but he could not hide his disappointment from his daughter. She was in the outcast house, the house of light. It was an embarrassment to the family.

Many students ended up in the hospital after the measuring. It was a difficult time. Upon entering the trance, four representatives would rub the sand of three crystals about the body of the measuree, one for fear, one for loves, and one for life. It was the life crystal that drove most people mad. It told of the future, and not always in the nicest light. 

A sharp pain bit at her chest. Her hair was not the only thing to be affected by the measuring. She had not scarred because of her attempt to remove her own heart. But when she thought of those images, her chest hurt where her own nails had once dug into her flesh. She clutched her broom in her hand and ran off to the showers, trying desperately to outrun the memories chasing her.  


	5. The Start of Classes, and So Much More

Draco, Darling: Thanks so much for your reviews…I'm having a great time with it…and I really do know the ending, I promise J

Ivy's hair whipped excitedly around her face. She smiled a genuine smile as the energy around her built. Leaves flew everywhere, pulled toward the forming vortex. Students clutched desperately to any object they wished to keep from the wind tunnel the new student was creating, including themselves. She was lost. It was an amazing feeling. She had always liked charms, even had a gift for it. But, this was charms at its best. Controlling the forces of nature, bending them to her will, it was amazing. Her heart began to beat rapidly. Who would have thought it would take Hogwarts to introduce her to it. The wind grew in intensity.

            "That is quite enough!" Professor Flitwick screamed, literally jumping up and down with anger. Ivy, broken out of her trance, lost the connection she had been feeding. Suddenly, the wind died. Students who had been suspended in the air from the vortex's force fell to the ground with a thud. One of these students was Draco Malfoy. Ivy looked at the professor and tried to suppress a giggle, unsuccessfully. "Miss Belladonnavich, I do not pretend to know what they have taught you at your former school. However, here at Hogwarts, students do listen to their professors and follow their instructions. Furthermore, we also require that students desist when asked. Do you understand?" His little eyes bore a hole into Ivy's forehead. She was used to this trick. Her face became stoic and honest, even apologetic.  

            "Perfectly, professor," she smiled sweetly, bringing her hand to her chest. Slowly, she dragged her fingertips over her breasts, drawing the robes over them tightly. "I do so humbly apologize for my actions, and hope that you will find it possible to overlook this incident as a bit of overexcitement on my part." Her voice fell as smoothly as honey on the charms professor.

"Of course, dear." He smiled at the red-head kindly. "Now class, Miss Belladonnavich completed a very successful vortex charm. While I do not expect you all to…" Ivy did not catch the rest of the lecture. She was lost in the afterglow of her spell. Her fingers still tingled warmly. She floated throughout the rest of the class, never truly listening to what the professor said.

The class was filing back into the castle for lunch when Draco caught Ivy's arm. "You bruised me, you know." He raised an eyebrow. _Katarina in heaven, he's amazing._ Involuntarily, her breath became shallow. Slowly, she felt her composure dissolve. In an instant of terror, she realized that her mind was completely blank. All she could concentrate on was his jaw line. It was angled sharply, strong, and amazing. __

She looked down at her feet. She had to say something. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling. "I'm…I'm sorry," she stammered out. Quickly, she turned and ran for the dormitory. Draco stared in bewildered amazement. How could this girl be so different? She was so collected in front of a professor, wielding sexuality and innocence into a single persona that any male would melt in front of. And yet, when it came to a student, him, specifically, she was as close to an idiot as one could get. It was amazing, and truly tiring to think about. So Draco didn't waste anymore time or energy on it. He located Crabbe and Goyle and gracefully sauntered off to the Great Hall.

_Potions,_ Alona thought.  _Students actually have a difficult time with this? These lessons are rudimentary! All you do is throw the damn ingredients into the cauldron and stir. It's not exactly difficult._ She sat removed from the other students in the back corner of the classroom. Severus was at the front of the classroom prattling on about Wolfsbane this and dragon scales that. It was really quite dull. Carelessly, she drew pictures on her parchment. Eager Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs sat near the front madly writing every nuance of Snape's ego down. She went back to her thoughts. She was really not concentrating on anything. It was relaxing, letting the mind drift. One never knew where it would end up. She was practicing the fine art of doing nothing when she suddenly noticed the entire room staring at her. Annoyed at the disturbance, she snapped, "What?" The student closest to her bit her lip and looked away embarrassed.

            "Miss Karkaroff," Snape sang in his most arrogant voice. "You were just asked to explain why dragon scales are used in many protection potions. Care to give an intelligent answer?"

            Alona laughed quietly. _Two can play at this power game_, she thought. "Actually, professor," she spat the word out. "While I do in fact know the reason, I think it is in the best interest of the class for them to discover the answer for themselves. Don't you think? I mean, new research points to self-discovery as the best method to truly assimilate information. Besides, it works for toddlers. It must work for the brightest witches and wizards in the United Kingdom." Her voice dripped with contempt. She was too happy with her answer to notice the collective cringe the class made. Snape just stared at her, jaw agape, fire brewing in his eyes. Silence consumed the classroom.

            "Because of that remark, Miss Karkaroff, fifty points from Ravenclaw, and the homework will be two rolls of parchment on the magical properties of dragon scales." The class groaned. "Be sure to thank her for it." With that, he turned sharply on his heels and retreated into his office, his robe billowing out behind him. Alona gritted her teeth. This wasn't Durmstrang. Answers like that were only punished here. She was not going to be popular today.

            As if to prove her revelation, the class filed out silently, casting malevolent glances at the new-comer.  She sat, stoically receiving each glare until they had all left. With a sigh, she looked around the now empty room. Resigning herself to lunch alone, Alona gathered up her books and headed for the Great Hall.

The dormitory was thankfully quiet as Ivy entered. She had run blindly here, half embarrassed, half angry at the way she had let that boy get to her. She was a girl who had known men. She had used men, used them and abused them. It was an easy way to get what one wanted. The human psyche, be it witch, wizard, or muggle, was such an easy thing to control. All one had to do was find what drove the person, and use it. Emotions were very dangerous to the person who had them. And now, some boy was using that against her.

_Me!_ Her thoughts raged. She threw herself onto her bed. Her world was spinning. It was impossible to know where she was or what she was even looking at. Oh, she had her guesses, but when the mind can't focus, it looses all perspectives until it is able to regain composure. She lost track of time. It was the first time she had ever felt her own raw emotions and it scared her. Slowly, with effort, she began to see clearly. The room stopped its twirling. She was aware that she was missing classes, but she did not care. She had embarrassed herself, her former school, and her parents. It was not to happen again.

Methodically, she began to undress. She needed to see the reminder. She needed that visual confirmation of who she was and where she came from. Gradually, she walked over to the full length mirror that adorned the wall near her bed. He curved figure, naked, reflected back. Cream colored skin warmed by the setting sun radiated. She looked out at the sinking ball, it was almost low enough. She stood in front of the mirror, waiting. Slowly, it began to creep. It started at the longest finger on her left hand, and slowly grew up her arm, a single flame. Coiling and twisting its way, it found each arc and bend as it made its way up to her breasts. It continued to grow, climbing onto the right side of her neck where it touched her hair, igniting it in hues of copper and red imagined only by the paintbrush of the fine art masters.

She stood regally, remembering her measuring. _You, Ivy, will burn with a fire that can not be quenched. It needs no aid for it lives in you. It is your strength and your power. It bends for no person, save you. You may call upon it when you desire, for it will give you strength and power over all you see. All you must do is remember it. I give to you your mark. Stand free from the trappings of men as the sun is set ablaze and feel the kinship that fire brings you._

As the sun faded, Ivy looked at her left hand. Where the flame had so recently flourished, she was left with a tattoo of the finest design. As she moved, it leapt and sparkled as living fire does. She knew that it would slowly return to her core, but for now, it was her armor, her shield. She was strong now.

With the exception of Ivy, every student ate lunch in the Great Hall that day. There was the elevated level of excitement that always accompanies the first days back to school. How so and so had gotten off to a bad start with this professor, and how such and such was as lucky as lucky could get, and about the greatest conversational topic in the whole wizarding world, Quidditch.

At the Gryffindor table, a large group gathered around three students. Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter had become quite famous during their time at the school. As such, it was nearly impossible to spend the first day of school without talking to every Gryffindor less that five times during the lunch hour. Today, though, Harry's thoughts were somewhere else. Last night, he had dreamed of the moon, bright, silver and full. It was the most amazing dream, for that was all he dreamed of, yet he awoke happy, even blissful. And, he had not grown tired of the dream, he wanted it back.

Morning had been a cruel joke. His eyes kept wandering to the Ravenclaw table. They were not searching for Cho, however. Last year had cured him of any desire for her at all. Instead, they fell on the lone girl sitting at the end of the table. Her raven hair fell gently about her shoulders as she wrote on a piece of parchment. A lone lock of silver hair curled gracefully about her cheek. It was as silver as the moon had been. His thoughts were interrupted. "What do you think Harry?" Ron's excited face practically beamed with excitement.

"I'm sorry, what was that Ron?" Harry shook his head, trying to focus on his friends.

Ron did his best to look annoyed, but it wasn't working. "I said, 'Who do you think Ravenclaw will pick as their new seeker since Cho has dropped the team?'"

Harry's green eyes grew wide in surprise. "Cho's dropped the team?"

"Honestly Harry, where have you been all morning? It's all anyone can talk about!"

"I've just got a lot to think about, that's all." He paused for a moment to reflect on Ron's previous question. "Bloody hell, Ron, I don't know. Who in their house can?"

Ron's face beamed deviously, "No one, that's who! There's one team that's no match for Gryffindor and our Harry!" He slapped the boy on the back, knocking Harry's glasses off in the process.

"Honestly, you boys and your Quidditch." Hermione shook her head. "You'd think that life revolved around it." She gathered her books in preparation of heading for her next class.

"But Hermione," Ron grinned. "Didn't you get to that chapter in the book? It does." Huffing loudly, Hermione stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving a laughing Ron and Harry scrambling to catch up.

Thanks to the melodious nocturnal noises of her roommates, Ivy had been unable to sleep. So, finally at four in the morning, she tore her covers off and stalked noisily out of the room. She paused momentarily at the door, hoping that her fuss had roused one of the log-sawers out of their bliss. When she realized that they were still dead to the world, the red-head had huffed audibly and left the dorm, slamming the door behind her. She smiled self-contentedly. At least the effort made her feel better.

            The common room was a welcome relief from the unending noise that swirled about her room. The air was warm and inviting. The embers from the fire still smoldered, casting emerald lined shadows around the dungeon. _Green is a good color, _she thought as she made her way to the plush velvet lounger. _Much better that that blasted orange I had to put up with at Durmstrang. My hair simply shines against the green. _One side of her mouth smirked. Effortlessly, she folded her legs in about her as she settled into the chair. The embers almost shimmered. It was entrancing. She found that if she unfocused her eyes, the undulating colors danced unendingly. She smiled. "It is beautiful, isn't it?" The voice was soft and husky, as if it wasn't used to being used at this time of the night. Ivy's eyes widened. She had thought she was alone. Carefully, she stared ahead. She did not want to know the source of the voice. If it was who she thought it was she would lose all control again. She would not allow herself to do that ever again, whatever the cost.

            "Beautiful?" She asked sweetly. "Is a Slytherin capable of sensing beauty?" She smiled to the fire, her full red lips parting slightly.

            "We are," came the voice again. "The dying of a fire, its energy spent, trying desperately to hold on to the vitality it once had, that is beautiful. The way the frost can sneak up on summer and encase a perfect rose for all of winter, that is beautiful. The way the moon fills this common room with dancing shadows, choosing when and where to shed its light, that is beautiful. Yes, a Slytherin can sense beauty." Ivy felt the wind ruffle her hair, revealing her tattoo. She closed her eyes and let the darkness sharpen her senses. She knew who the voice belonged to.

            "I'm glad to hear that, Draco." She turned to the place where the voice had originated. No one was there.


End file.
